


revelations

by ericherries



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Choking, F/M, Knifeplay, Murder, Oral Sex, POV First Person, PWP, Pet Names, Reader-Insert, Smut, Stabbing, Torture, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericherries/pseuds/ericherries
Summary: i just wanna fuck him is that SO badprobably
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Reader, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/You
Kudos: 57





	revelations

All I can smell is blood.

My nose is flooded with a sickly metal stench, unwavering even as I wipe the thick gel from my lower lip. It’s gross and sticky and now coating my fingers, my nose twitching in disgust, still acutely aware of how silent I have to be, even with the merciless pain in my abdomen. 

It’s pitch black, so dark that I can’t see the blood on my hands, the only reason I know I’m bleeding is the scorching pain ripping through me with each twitch and shudder. I hold my breath in, almost retching with each cry for air. The silence is harrowing; the longer it lasts the more terrified I grow. He’s near. He must be. Some selfish part of my brain begs to hear a cry in the distance, just some signal that he isn’t right outside of my locker, that I won’t end up in the gutter again. Light pattering rain knocks upon the metal door, shaking me to my core. My mouth is ripped open by the desperate need for oxygen gasping it down, instantaneously I grit my teeth down, begging that a scream isn’t going to choke it’s way out of my throat with it. If he happened to be anywhere near he would have heard my gasp - my first mistake of the day. My eyes clench shut as I hear the squelch of wet marsh being stepped on directly ahead of me. We both know the jig is up.

Ghostface rips the locker doors open, pinning me to the back of the wooden coffin, his knife digging into the planks, about an inch from my ear. I don't even notice when a pitiful whimper leaves my lips, too busy silently begging for mercy as I stare up at the mask, mercy that I know will not be given. He cackles loudly from behind the plastic, sending icy shivers through me.

“Please…” I whisper, he laughs at me.

I’m yanked from my spot, and thrown over his shoulder, as if I weighed nothing. His leather hand grasping onto my thigh, grip tight enough to bruise, though I barely notice as his shoulder digs directly into my stomach wound. I freely scream now, wriggling around to relieve the agony thundering into my ribs. Blood spills from between my lips, splattering onto the wet ground. He silences my scream as he brings a hand down onto the bare skin of my thigh, the sound echoing for a moment. I whine as I’m thrown around. Blood pulsing up to my head, making me too dizzy to work out where he’s taking me. I’m close to slipping into unconsciousness by the time he stops walking. Although I’m ripped from my blissful rest when I’m thrown to the gory floor of the basement, I yelp at the sudden awakening. He towers above me. The long black robe stretches upwards, elongating his figure, but I refuse to look up to the point of his mask. He notices my act of rebellion.

“Look at me.” He demands. His voice is dark and raspy, as if he hadn’t used it in a while. It makes my skin crawl. I shake my head.

“C’mon angel. Look at me.” My lip quivers in fright as I shake my head again, not finding enough courage within myself to act as if I wasn't horrifically terrified of him. Although I’m not given much of a choice as his leather boot is brought down onto my stomach, directly on the wound he had given me prior. 

I scream again. This time so loud I hear ringing in my ears, and my throat cries out in agony at the abuse. I desperately grasp at his boot, trying to elevate it with any strength I had. My body convulses under the pressure. The torture finally comes to an end as he lifts his foot away from my frail body.

“I said. Look at me.”

Shakily, my eyes trail up his body, head tilting at an angle. Cries spill from my lips. The black mesh holes in his mask look down on me. I’m petrified, but I can’t look away.

“See. It wasn’t that hard, was it doll?”

I find a sort of pleasure in the nickname, shivering at it. Another cry is ripped from between my lips as his knife traces my jaw, stopping at the base of my chin, pushing my neck up at an awkward angle. I feel a pulse somewhere near my thighs, too afraid to understand what it was, instead I push my legs together. His blade leaves my skin, I’m given a moment of relief before he crouches down, now at my eye level. I stare back at him, still jittery.

“Be a dear and lie down for me?”

Hesitantly, I lay down, the wound on my stomach reminding me of its presence as I do so. As soon as my back hits the hellish wood, he places a hand between my legs, parting them with his gloved hand. He places himself between them and I blush at the feeling of my skirt riding up; he could definitely see something from where he’s sat, but if he does, he doesn't say anything. I feel cool leather wrap around my waist. His hand grasps my left side, his right hand carefully pulling up my shirt. I begin to panic, muttering pleas for him to stop.

“Shhh, don’t worry darling. I’m not going to hurt you.” He pauses, leaning in close to my ear. “Yet.” I squirm as he whispers into my ear, scorching breath spreading across my neck like poison. He continues his gentle procedure, slowly applying alcohol to my wound. The horrid stinging makes my back arch up off the ground, a ragged couple of breaths being forced from me. I don’t understand what’s happening. His suddenly gentle hands continue working on my flesh, applying bandages across my red skin.

“What are you doing?” I grumble, pain still blossoming across my upper body.

“Don’t question a good thing honey.” He replies.

“Why aren’t you putting me on a hook?”

Instead of replying, he plunges a finger into the large cut, and wraps his other hand tightly around my neck. I try to scream but the pressure on my throat stops it from working. Agony tours through me once again as I gasp for air. I regret speaking. He knows I do. The horrid pain is let up when his finger twists out from inside me, warm blood spilling out again. He places the final bandage and gets up. He now notices how incredibly short my skirt is and whistles at me, I feel a blush spread across my cheeks, knowing exactly what he’s looking at. I clench my thighs together as quickly as possible. I hear a nose from him, a quiet tut-tut. With some false courage I find myself able to speak again,

“Go fuck yourself.” I spit.

He laughs at me.

“I would babe, but you just look so sweet right now.” I begin to sit up, now that the excruciating pain has somewhat dissipated I can finally speak my mind, instead of incoherent cries and whines. I lick the blood from my lips, opening my mouth to speak.

“I-”

He lunges at me, gripping the hair on my head and yanking it back as tightly as he can, I yelp at the sudden pain, my back arching into his chest.

“Aww look at you.”

I whimper.

“So greedy for my touch.”

His voice always manages to get under my skin, crawling around in my brain. With my head pulled back, my eyes are trained on the ceiling, I hear him shuffle from fabric around, I don’t have enough time to wonder what he’s doing before his teeth dig into my neck.

I moan.

Pure humiliation shudders through me as I realise what just happened. He laughs at me, his hot breath skimming my neck.

“Filthy slut.” he mutters, making me blush even harder.

His lips push back down onto my neck, sucking on my bare skin, bringing another moan from my mouth. I don’t bother trying to stop it anymore, he clearly knows I’m enjoying this.

“You got a crush on me or something doll?”

I stay silent.

“I’m flattered - honestly I am - but crushes aren’t really my thing.” His mouth moves away from my neck, and pulls his mask back down, letting go of my hair. Even from Ghostface, the sting of rejection hurts, I already find myself missing the heat from his touch. My eyes find his mask.

“Please..” I beg. I can sense he’s smirking from beneath the mask.

“Oh.” He pauses. “Since you asked so nicely.” I find myself smiling at his words, another pulse down below at the thought. He gently pushes my shoulder, so my back is against the wood again.

“Open up cupcake.” He says, patting my knee. I gingerly spread my legs for him, another blush creeping up my face. His leather clad fingers pinch at my panties, pulling them down and off my legs. I see him quickly throw them across the room, landing somewhere in the corner. I assume I’m not getting them back.

“You got so wet the moment I touched you, didn't you sweets?.” His head is directly between my thighs. I mumble something in reply, not caring.

I see him pull his mask up just over his nose, I just catch the glimpse of a scar across his lip, I mentally store that information for later, momentarily forgetting it when I feel his warm lips on my very upper thigh, my breath hitches.

“I just killed all of your friends and now you're begging me to touch you.”

“More..” I whine pathetically, he laughs at me, making me need him even more, his lips ghosting over my skin. “Touch me.” I plead.

I moan dramatically as his tongue delves into me, my back arching in delight. I hear him chuckle. He sucks on my clit and I moan again, dragging it out. His jaw moves achingly slowly, tongue sitting still as I cry out, whining at him. I buck my hips at him, begging for some kind of friction. He slowly begins to pick up the pace, as I whimper. I can feel his hot tongue inside of me, pushing up against my walls, my body aches in sweet agony. My moans become louder and louder, hoping that he’ll eventually get his act together and fuck me. I don’t even care what he does to me at this point, I’m too out of it to care. The image of his cock pumping into me with his knife held to my throat shocks me into nearly going over the edge. I cry out as I feel him speed up, relentlessly working me open. He growls at me.

“Gonna cum angel?” He asks. I babble something out feeling a tight coil winding up, I beg for it, eyes clenched shut, I’m almost there, please please please-

He stabs his knife through my chest and I’m suddenly sent over the edge, the pain unnoticeable. My body heaves as he laughs, I feel like my body explodes as I chant yes’. The ground feels like it’s going to swallow me whole as I finally realise I have a hole in my chest that’s now bleeding out profusely. He continues his horrible laughter. My voice is hoarse and broken as I scream.

“FUCK YOU-”

I awake in the middle of the campfire, sitting up with a gasp. I still feel a slight heat between my legs as I hear the entity laugh at me somewhere in my bones. I place my hand over my chest, no longer feeling the blood. I curse to myself as I begin to stand up. I fall back onto the grass as my knees give out beneath me, legs still shaking from my previous encounter; thank god no one was at the campsite yet. As I shift my body I feel a strange sensation. Slowly, I lift up my skirt. I feel hot anger grow in me as I realise...

I’m going to have to do the next trials without wearing any underwear.

**Author's Note:**

> alright sluts, if you know me, no you don't.
> 
> if you don't know me, ur welcome ig


End file.
